Incarnate

My prayers are like boomerangs

They return just as they left bent

By some intrinsic perversion that

Renders them unfit for a divine

Audience. Even murderers are

Pardoned but “I” am an incarnation

Of the beast, irredeemable even in

The eyes of a merciful heaven

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7 thoughts on “Incarnate

  1. This is truly gorgeous! So enjoying discovering your words. The line about the murderers reminds me of a line I wrote in a prose piece a while ago “Even a murderer deserves a typewriter.” Maybe I’ll post it now that I thought of it 🙂 Thank you once again — great to know you.

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